The First Morning
by NotThatIWillEverWriteIt
Summary: Domestic Iwaoi fluff is all I need in my life.


Hajime woke up to delicious smells of breakfast wafting to the bedroom. Their new bedroom that, at the moment, consisted just of a mattress on the floor and a stack of moving boxes in the corner. Lazily he pushed the blanket aside, stretched out his arms, arched his back, and finally let the whole body relax with a satisfied little groan. His muscles were heavy and ached from all the carrying yesterday.

The morning sun – or was it noon already – warmed his bare chest and stomach and wouldn't let him doze off anymore. Well, that and the aroma of coffee and - Hajime sniffed the air - pancakes. A bit clumsily he got up to his feet and opted out of wearing a shirt, didn't even bother to pull on the sweatpants that laid on the floor where he had dropped them exhausted last night.

Their unfurnished kitchen basked in light when Hajime walked in. Oikawa was standing in front of the stove in his worn-out T-shirt and gingham boxers flipping pancakes. Here and there were rummaged through moving boxes. Besides the breakfast supplies, it seemed he had managed to locate their old radio from all the chaos and it was quietly playing some empty-headed summer hit Hajime was sure to get sick of come August. Oikawa hummed to the melody off-key and followed the beat with little swings of his hips.

Amused, Hajime leaned on the doorframe and looked at the show in silence. When Oikawa tried to hit one particularly high note and failed miserably, he decided to take pity on his ears and cleared his throat pointedly.

Oikawa spun around clutching the spatula against his chest. "Crap, you scared me!"

"Not as bad as that singing of yours scares everyone with hearing, I'm sure."

Oikawa darted out his pink tongue to show exactly how much Hajime's review was appreciated and turned back to flip the pancake in the air without the spatula. The showoff.

Hajime walked over to him and wrapped his arms loosely around his hips.

"Smells good," he said and nuzzled the soft fuzz of Oikawa's neck.

Oikawa giggled, and the next scoopful of golden, thick batter almost missed the pan when he tried to escape Hajime's tickling nose and lips. "Are you talking about me or the pancakes?"

"Whichever I can have the soonest." To make clear which one he would prefer, though, he nibbled the soft earlobe.

Almost as if it was an automatic reaction, Oikawa's back arched and the soft plumb of his ass rolled against Hajime's groin. His voice dropped a little, full-on seduction mode. "Do you want me with or without syrup?"

"Don't start anything you can't finish," Hajime growled and tightened his hold. Heat gradually pooled in his lower half when he pictured lapping the gooey, dark syrup off Oikawa's pale skin, dipping his tongue in the little pool of the belly button for good measure, leaving a wet, sticky trail down to – Oikawa inhaled sharply and leaned his head back when Hajime gently kneaded him over the boxers.

"Why don't you come back to bed?" he mumbled. "I left the sheets warm."

"But breakfast is the most importa– ah – " A shudder ran through him when Hajime slid his hand under the hem of his T-shirt and dragged his nails lightly across his stomach. " – the most important meal of the day," he finished and sounded a bit out of breath.

"I'm sure what I have for you is plenty nutritious." Oikawa went still in his arms, and Hajime groaned. "No, I just heard it."

"Pfff!" Oikawa tried not to cackle out loud without really succeeding. "What porn movie did you get _that_ from?" The glee and tease were evident in his stupid voice, and Hajime buried his face that was getting warmer and warmer behind Oikawa's shoulder because he didn't need to witness the smug grin that went with the tone.

"Aww, Iwa-chan." Oikawa reached back and patted the top of Hajime's head. "You don't have to try so hard, but it sure is cu – Whoa!"

Before Oikawa could get any further with the mocking he was unceremoniously picked up and hoisted over Hajime's shoulder. His muscles complained but he was not going to waste a perfectly good hard-on – the first one in their new home – on Oikawa making fun of him.

"Iwa-chan!" Oikawa shrieked and swatted Hajime's back with the battery spatula. "Put me down!"

Paying no mind to the kicking feet and flailing arms Hajime turned off the stove, picked up the bottle of syrup, and headed back to the bedroom. The familiar anticipation dipped the bottom of this stomach almost painfully.

"I say we christen the new apartment. Let's start in the bedroom."


End file.
